Charlotte A. Eaton, Waterloo Days: The narrative of an Englishwoman resident at Brussels in June 1815
“ Thus the road between Waterloo and Brussels was one long uninterrupted charnel-house: the smell, the whole way through the forest, was extremely offensive, and in some places scarcely bearable. Deep stagnant pools of red putrid water, mingled with mortal remains, betrayed the spot where the bodies of men and horses had mingled together in death. We passed a large cross on the left side of the road, which had been erected in ancient times to mark the place where one human being had been murdered. How many had now sunk around it in agony, and breathed, unnoticed and unpitied, their dying groans! ”
